


In a Different Light

by Alexander_L



Series: You and I and the stories we tell – A collection of Ferdinand/Hubert oneshots [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Choking, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Foreplay, M/M, POV Ferdinand von Aegir, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rivals to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_L/pseuds/Alexander_L
Summary: After yet another quarrel with Hubert, Byleth pulls Ferdinand aside to encourage him to rethink his assumptions about Hubert and learn to get along. Determined to follow her advice and make an offer of friendship, Ferdinand heads down to the market to buy Hubert a gift of coffee. But there he ends up in a brawl with an assassin that swiftly turns south, making him wish he had some backup.(Rated E because there's some playful smut later in the story.)
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: You and I and the stories we tell – A collection of Ferdinand/Hubert oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794589
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	In a Different Light

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks naoto_fuyumine for suggesting the idea of writing about them learning to regard each other in a different light than rivals! 
> 
> I intended for this to be rather serious and maybe a little angsty with pining, but I settled on bantery and playful instead because what really sticks out to me in their A+ support is that moment when Ferdinand realizes he's being an idiot and starts laughing. Hubert hesitates for a second then laughs too and it's pretty much the first time I ever heard him laugh. He seems a lot fonder and gentler after that and it makes me wonder if one of the things that really makes him fall for Ferdie is that he's amused by him and finds him endearing.
> 
> Anyways, here is Ferdie being an idiot and Hubert being both annoyed and amused by him.

###  **Ferdinand**

### Guardian Moon, 1185

A growl of frustration escaped my throat as I stalked down the stairs from the cardinal room, hell bent on getting as far away as possible from that infuriating man and his infuriating face and his infuriating little turned up collar and overly dramatic black cape. But after a minute, I heard running footsteps catching up to me and turned around to find Byleth.

“Ferdinand,” she said. “Tea?”

We all learned long ago that _‘tea?’_ was code for _‘we need to talk’_ with Byleth. 

“Forgive me, prof-” I caught myself and paused, remembering that she did not want us to call her that anymore. Indeed, she never did, but now that she was our equal and younger than most of us too, it had become an even more tiresome title to her. “Byleth,” I amended, “I am not in a mood for a lecture, seeing as I have already received quite a scathing one this morning.”

She raised her eyebrows; it was unlike me to refuse her offer so rudely, for tea with her was usually quite a delight. It was just that right now I knew why she wanted to speak to me and I could not assure myself that I would respond to her request politely and thus knew that I would be better off preventing it as best I could.

Byleth did not reply, leveling her neutral and yet inexplicably powerful stare at me until I shifted uncomfortably and said, “If you would like to substitute brandy for tea, then I will acquiesce.”

“That’s fine.”

She followed me back to my room and I pulled out the bottle of spirits Lorenz gave me, pouring it into two small glasses and handing her one. It was not her custom to visit any of us in our rooms – an old habit perhaps from her teacher days when her personal life was kept very strictly separate from ours – so I left the door halfway open to make her more comfortable and beckoned for her to sit at the chair next to my desk since the only other option was the bed.

But she did not seem bothered by being in here and merely sipped her glass of brandy and looked around the room. “Mm. This is good,” she said. “I’ve never had brandy before.” She nodded towards a vase of sunflowers on my desk. “Beautiful flowers.”

“From Petra when I was wounded in the skirmish last week,” I explained. “Profes- _Byleth_ , what was it you wished to speak of?”

“Hubert,” she said and I promptly drank the whole glass of brandy in one gulp. 

To hell with savoring it. I was not having this conversation sober. Pouring another shot into my glass, I tossed it back then looked up to meet her calm, inescapable gaze.

“Yes, I feared so. What about that wretched man? I hope you are not here to tell me that I should be more courteous to him and hold my tongue when he is presenting a strategy that has such obvious flaws in it.”

Byleth shook her head. “Speak up about the flaws. That’s why you are in the war council meetings. In fact, I think I am going to start inviting Sylvain and Petra to join as well so we have even more input. They both have good heads for strategy.”

“Then what about Hubert?” I asked.

Byleth set her glass of brandy down, rested her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands, looking at me intently. “I’m not good at communication. I can understand people very well but I can’t always find the words to express what I want to say. You are the opposite. You’re very well-spoken, but sometimes you don’t really read people well.”

I bristled a bit at her criticism but the sincerity in her manner and gentleness in her voice made me realize that it was not judgment, rather empathy. That was why she prefaced it with her own struggles.

“As a future politician, it is essential that I learn to read people well. I am disheartened that you do not faith in my capabilities in the matter,” I replied.

“I have always had faith in you, Ferdinand. That’s why I’m telling you this. Because your greatest skill is that you’re humble. You admit when you’re wrong and you seek to be better. That’s what I’m asking of you.”

“Humble?” I laughed nervously. “I have been told quite the opposite on many occasions.”

“My opinion of you is based on your actions, not your words. Anyways, what I’m trying to get at here is that you don’t understand Hubert and in order to work with him you need to try.”

“I do understand him. I have fought alongside him for years. He is loyal and self-sacrificing and at times I have even seen him be kind. But those things only matter in his personal life. In a professional context what matters is the fact that he is obstinate, quarrelsome and insulting, and particularly so to me. In what aspect have I failed to understand him? I think that this is a fair assessment of his character.”

Byleth was quiet for a moment, staring down at the floor for long enough that I worried she had lost track of our conversation. Then she looked back up and said, “Particularly so to you. You just said it. That’s what you don’t understand.”

“His spiteful and unnecessary hatred for me is-”

“He respects you,” she interrupted, “more than anyone else in our army.”

I decided that such an unexpected turn in the conversation warranted another shot of brandy and after I swallowed it, I said, “You cannot be serious.”

“He said so himself. You’re not the one I came to first to talk about this. I asked him why he argued with you so much and he said it’s because you told him to.”

“I- I-” I sputtered. “What is that supposed to mean? I have never-”

And then it hit me: our argument about Edelgard and the letter he sent behind her back. It was months ago, but it stuck clearly in my mind. I told him that if he respected someone he should voice his concerns to their face so that he could learn from their debate and come to a more sensible conclusion.

“Whether that is the case or not, why must he challenge me with such disdain?” I asked, refusing to let the revelation be enough to make me forgive him.

“Because he is an asshole,” Byleth stated matter-of-factly, making me snort a very undignified laugh.

“I do not know what you mean when you say you do not have a way with words, Byleth,” I replied. “I find you very eloquent sometimes.”

She smiled faintly, then her expression fell serious again. “Hubert does not argue with anyone else because he does not think their opinions worth dignifying with a response. He argues with me – albeit more respectfully, yes – and he argues with you. Only us.”

“So what are you asking of me? To view his contempt as a compliment of some kind?”

“I am asking you to rethink your assumptions of him,” she said, “because Edelgard and I are not going to win this war if our right-hand men are too at odds with each other to work together. You and Hubert are opposites in many ways, but that’s your strength. One of you without the other is no help. We need your debate in order to come to the smart middle ground.” She took a sip of her drink and looked over at the sunflowers again, studying them idly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t let your temper interrupt your work if you understood him better.”

“Has my temper been getting in the way of my usefulness?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I am sorry. It is shameful of me to let emotions cloud my judgment and affect my work. I will strive to be more objective.”

“Like he does?” she asked, the barest hint of a smirk on her lips.

The question galled me but I answered her honestly. “I suppose so.”

Byleth nodded and stood up, setting down her empty glass. “Thanks for the drink. It was nice.”

“Anytime. Your advice is always welcome.”

As she left, I sighed and lay down on the bed, my face feeling flushed and my head spinning a bit from the liquor. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon. It was terribly irresponsible of me to drink like that. 

For a time, I stayed there, musing over my conversation with Byleth and analyzing the past few interactions I had with Hubert, searching for the clues Byleth hinted at. Perhaps there had been compliments laced in with the cutting remarks so subtly it was hard to discern them? Perhaps… 

Ah, but the exhausting game one had to play with Hubert to discern the real meaning behind his actions and words! Whether or not I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he was more respectful than he seemed, it did not change the fact that he refused to be open with his thoughts and feelings and instead shrouded them in carefully worded snipes and comments. If only he would be honest with me, we could come to some sort of professional rapport with one another!

With a huff, I sat up and got out of bed, sweeping my hair over my shoulders and determining that if Hubert would not make any kind of gesture of friendship to start establishing that rapport, then it fell to me to be the better man and set aside our petty squabbles.

I should start with a gift. There was a new merchant in the marketplace with imported wares that might be selling good quality coffee.

But as I wandered through the market, I got sidetracked by a new weapons merchant. Perusing his wares, I noticed with disapproval how astonishingly bad quality they were for the price he was selling them at. I was about to walk out when the sound of a scuffle caught my attention and I looked over to see an armed man with a mask over his face burst into the shop and drag the merchant towards the back door and out into the alley.

With a shout, I chased after them and into the alleyway.

“Please! Don’t hurt me! Please, it must be a misunderstanding! I-” the young merchant was begging, but the armed man just struck him over the head to silence him and pulled a vicious serrated knife from a sheath on his belt. 

“Oh no you don’t!” I yelled and threw myself at the man, my noble courage bolstered recklessly by liquor and the remnants of my flared temper.

I landed a fierce uppercut that staggered the thug and caused him to drop the merchant, who fell limply to the ground. It occurred to me as the thug got his bearings and swung at me that I was unarmed. Of course there was a whole shop full of weapons beside us, but could I get to them in time?

Dodging the swing, I tried to make a break for the door, but the man threw the knife and it sliced deeply into my calf. I stumbled and yanked the blade free, ignoring the burst of pain, then turned and attacked.

For a moment, I smiled triumphantly and brandished the knife. I was about to say something taunting such as _‘Thank you for giving me a weapon!’_ but before I could, my whole leg seized up and I realized in horror that the knife must have been coated in a poison of some kind.

The thug lunged at me and I stabbed at him, but he grabbed my wrist and wrenched the blade free, casting it to the side. I swung my free fist around and decked him solidly in the jaw, feeling the bone fracture. The man howled in pain and his counterattack was nearly feral with anger.

He beat me down until I tripped on my paralyzed leg and fell to the ground. Before I could scramble back up, he kicked me savagely, over and over again until I could barely move.

I yelled and spat out a mouthful of blood, refusing to give up and stay down. But when the man picked up the knife from the ground and snarled, “Shut up!” I knew my chances of surviving this were not exceptionally good.

The poison was getting to my head now, messing with my focus and blurring and distorting my vision. In a haze, I saw the man raise his hand to stab the knife into me. Then suddenly a shadow appeared behind him and a cloth was clamped over his mouth. He went limp immediately and the moment he slumped to the ground, the shadowy figure was on top of him, binding his wrists and ankles and adding a fierce punch in the thug’s face for no other reason than retaliation.

I blinked, trying to clarify my vision as the shadow knelt down beside me, but there was something dark obscuring his eyes and half his face. Wait. Was it his hair?

A cape rustled and white gloved hands reached out to examine my wounds.

“Ferdinand!” he exclaimed and my mind spun in confusion.

Hubert?

“Fuck. Fuck! Ferdinand, don’t black out. Stay awake. Saints damn you, you meddlesome fool. Ferdinand! Stay awake. Don’t you _dare_ die like this.”

The last thing I remembered before falling unconscious was the cool glass edge of a vial being pressed against my lips and a slippery, foul-tasting liquid gagging me.

I drifted awake to the sensation of my head resting on someone’s shoulder and a hand on my chest over my heart, the tingling warmth of healing magic emanating from it. As my eyes fluttered open, I saw Hubert’s grim face staring down at me intently, his brow furrowed with worry. As my eyes met his, a look of intense relief passed across his expression before being swiftly masked with a stern frown.

“What the hell were you doing?” he hissed.

“That merchant… he…” I swallowed, my throat feeling hoarse and my whole body feeling sore and ill. Then I mustered the energy to say, “I prevented a murder!”

“ _I_ prevented a murder,” Hubert corrected. “Your murder.”

“The blade was poisoned.”

“Yes, and you are lucky it was only common Venin to which I always carry an antidote. If I had not happened upon you, the poison would have overtaken your heart and you would have been dead quicker than you could say your own damn name.”

Marveling at the concern he was not entirely able to hide behind his gruff manner, I gave him a smile and said earnestly, “Thank you, Hubert. I am lucky.”

He lifted me off of his chest and held onto my shoulders until I steadied enough to not need his support. Then he yanked his hands away and stared off into the shadows down the alleyway to avoid my gaze.

“What were you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to buy a gift,” I answered, then added on a whim, “for a friend.”

“See to it that you are not so careless again. I would… It would be a great inconvenience for Her Highness to have to find someone else to take on your duties. As much as it infuriates me to have to remind you of this, you have an important role to serve in Her Highness’s army and it would be difficult to replace you. Throwing your life away defending some scam peddler is akin to spitting in the face of everything we fight for and all of the noble ambitions you profess to have.”

As he spoke, I thought about what Byleth told me and I listened carefully to his words, realizing what he was saying behind the ice in his tone and his choices of wording that sounded so cutting on face value.

“I will be more careful,” I assured him. “I am sorry, but I could not see an innocent man killed in cold blood and not act. I regret not doing so in a wiser manner, but I do not regret choosing to defend him.”

Hubert scoffed. “Your determination to be a good man will get you killed one day. Maybe you do not think me a good man, Ferdinand, but I am a man who survives and lives to see through to the end the duties that rest on my shoulders. You should learn from that.”

I looked around the alleyway and noticed that we were alone in it. “What happened to the assassin and the merchant?”

“The merchant I dragged back into his shop and locked the doors so he would be safe. He is unharmed. The assassin I questioned and then disposed of. He was hired to kill the merchant for a despicably trivial reason. Absolutely shameless,” Hubert growled.

“How long have I been out?”

“Half an hour at least.”

“And you have sat here in the mud waiting for me?” I asked with a bit of a smile, noticing how stained with blood and dirt Hubert’s pristine white gloves were now.

“I am used to getting my hands dirty,” he said. “Besides, I could not use a warp spell on you with your heart in such perilous condition and you are too heavy to carry.”

Rubbing my aching head, I stood up but the whole world spun and I nearly collapsed. Hubert jumped up to catch me with a look of alarm and said, “Good gods. Rest! I didn’t use every healing spell I know just to have you strain your heart and kill yourself.”

He lowered me back down to the ground and I sighed in frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Sit here for another half an hour?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Preferably without complaining too. It is the least you can do to repay me for saving your life.”

“Very well,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath. 

Hubert reached out then hesitated and gestured at my chest. “May I?” he asked.

I nodded and he placed his palm back on my chest, carefully monitoring my heartbeat. As he sat beside me with a frown of concentration and listened, I stared at him curiously.

This morning while we were leaning over the council table, spitting barbed words at each other, I would have scoffed if someone had told me that he would be later that same day sitting dutifully beside me protecting me with the care and concern of a physician. Indeed, I was not even aware Hubert knew much faith magic.

It fascinated me a little that the hands I had seen fire ruthless Banshee spells that tore violently through screaming hordes of enemies could also tend to injuries with such a light and gentle touch.

“Hubert, I-”

“Sshh!” he interrupted.

After a minute I tried again. “Hubert, listen to me. I-”

“Ferdinand! What did I just tell you about your heart?”

“Damn my heart,” I said, losing my patience a little. “Let me speak.”

He gave me an annoyed glare and said, “Fine. Make it quick and then be quiet.”

“I owe you an apology.”

“For taking up my valuable time and making me sit here watching over you?” he prompted.

“No. Well, I suppose a little. But no, that is not what I intended to say. I owe you an apology because I think I have not been affording you the proper respect you deserve. I do not want us to be at odds with each other anymore. I intend to still argue with you when we have a difference of views on a matter, but I will make sure that it is your ideas that I am raising objection to and not your character. If you will offer me the same courtesy, I believe you and I will be able to accomplish more and be of more use to Edelgard.”

His eyes brightened a bit even though his expression remained impassive and unimpressed. “I never thought I would hear such an apology from you.”

“There are many things I never anticipated either that have happened and one that I hope will yet happen,” I replied. “I want for us to be friends, Hubert.”

“Friends?” he scoffed.

“Does the word offend you for some reason?” I said, temper rising a bit.

Hubert looked down at my chest worriedly and said, “Calm yourself! For fuck’s sake. If you do not keep a level heartbeat, I will resort to force to keep you silent. Trying to reason with you seems to accomplish nothing.”

“I am calm,” I insisted, taking a deep, steadying breath. “There. I am calm. But answer me. Is there any possibility you can set aside your hatred of me enough for us to be friends?”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it with a thoughtful frown. After a moment, he said, “Wherever did you get the notion that I hate you?”

I stared at him dumbfounded. “Do you not hear yourself when you speak to me?”

“I think it is you who does not hear me, if you are so blind to my view of you.”

In an effort to keep my composure, I let the comment go without further questions and said, “Will you just give me an answer, you aggravating man?”

Hubert looked at me for a long moment and something like amusement sparkled in his eyes. Then he nodded wordlessly.

To my surprise, I found myself smiling at him. “Very well, then,” I said. “I am glad that is settled.”

“Will you be quiet now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He pressed his palm a little closer against my skin and even through his thin glove, I could feel the warmth of it and the lingering glow of healing magic – a comforting sensation. He bowed his head to focus on his magic and I took the opportunity to study him unobserved, noticing tiny hints of thought and emotion betraying themselves in the subtlest of ways: a faint twitch of an eyebrow, a slight easing to the frown on his lips. I wondered if I learned the subtleties of his features better and put more effort into reading him, I would discover far more about the man I had assumed all these years that I knew.

For instance, I had never really noticed what fine eyes he had, nor how elegant the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw were. And although I had gotten rather close to him a few times in a heated argument, I had always failed to notice that there was a subtle aroma that clung to him – warm and spiced, likely imported and high quality. The small vanity it implied amused me. And it did smell rather nice. Very nice.

I leaned a bit closer to get a better sense of it until I noticed Hubert’s whole body go rigid with discomfort. Realizing my mistake, I moved back and looked away, feeling a faint heat spreading across my face and praying to the goddess that the blush of embarrassment was not visible.

After a minute, I dared to look back and I saw the corner of his mouth quirked up and a glint of humor in his eyes.

“Are you… are you smiling, Hubert?” I ask.

He sobered up immediately and said, “No.”

“Pray tell: what is so amusing?”

“Ssh. Your heartbeat is pounding again.”

I realized the reason for it speeding up and blushed a little more. That horrible half-smile returned to Hubert’s lips and I knew that it was because of my embarrassment. 

“Does my potential death amuse you?” I asked sharply.

“A little,” he admitted. “Ferdinand von Aegir – died at the young age of twenty-two of the terminal condition of being a stubborn, hotheaded fool. What an epitaph that will be.”

I huffed in frustration and tried to remain angry, but I could not help a faint laugh after a moment. “That is the most likely cause of death for me.”

Hubert withdrew his hand and my chest felt a little hollow with its absence for a moment. “You are stable enough now, though, that it does not matter.” He stood up and held out his hand to help me to my feet. “Let us return to the monastery. The danger has passed.”

“You are just tired of my company,” I reply. “You care little about my health obviously.”

“Perhaps that will be your epitaph. Cause of death: being exceptionally tiresome company.”

I opened my mouth to comment in astonishment on the fact that Hubert – yes, Hubert von Vestra – was actually making jokes. But before I could speak, the wrenching sensation of a warp spell took my breath away. And as soon as we materialized in the entrance hall of the monastery, Hubert was already turning on his heel and striding quickly away without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

  
  


### Blue Sea Moon, 1186

“So you began to fall for me when I saved your life?” Hubert says. “How boring.”

“You saved my life several times before then. It was not because you rescued me. It was because that was the first time you were ever pleasant to be around! You were practically friendly to me! It was very alarming but very endearing.”

He looks at me with a faintly hurt expression then shakes his head and huffs in annoyance. “You know, when I asked ‘when,’ I was only looking for a date, not a long and detailed story,” Hubert says, settling down against the pillows with a sigh. “Good gods, you could talk the hind leg off a donkey.”

“It is your fault, dearest. You are too good of a listener. You enable me,” I reply.

“A trait I shall seek to remedy immediately.”

“But we really should know these things about each other!” I insist. “For too many years we lived alongside each other without ever breathing a word of our true thoughts. We could have become friends far sooner if we had been open with each other. And we could have come to this wonderful evolution of our friendship much sooner as well.”

“All good things take time,” he says. 

“Oh do they?” I scoff at his platitude. Planting my hands into the pillows on either side of him, I pin him down and lean over to kiss the spot right below his left ear where he is oddly sensitive. It always makes his breath hitch and is an excellent way to distract him. “Are you saying you do _not_ wish we had had more months of spending our free time together making love for hours instead of quarreling? That you are perfectly content it took six years for you to end up here in my bed?”

He shifts beneath me restlessly and when I attack his neck with fierce kisses, he gasps and says, “You can’t just win arguments like this!”

In lieu of replying, I kiss my way downwards until my mouth reaches his chest. Flicking my tongue across one of his nipples, I reach my hand down to massage the start of an erection that I can feel through his pants.

He groans, as frustrated as he is aroused, and tries to push my head away but he only ends up crying out and gripping a handful of my hair when I close my lips around his nipple and suck hard then graze it with just the barest hint of teeth. At the same time, I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his pants and clasp my fingers around his hardening dick.

“Fuck you,” Hubert murmurs and yanks my head up so that he can kiss me. I let him roll on top of me and kiss me for a minute, then I lift him off of me and sit up.

“I want to hear your story,” I tell him.

He stares up at me, breath racing, and says, “Fine. Afterwards. Come here.”

I stop him as he reaches for me by putting my palm firmly on his chest and pushing him back down. “Tell me first.”

He gives me a sullen, betrayed look but when I straddle him and start leisurely grinding my hips against his, staring at him expectantly the whole time, he breaks. 

“What an effective means of interrogation. Who knew you had a talent for torture,” he says. “What do you want to know?”

I stop grinding and sit still on top of him with a smile. “Tell me when you realized that your opinion of me had changed.”

“Unlike you, I do not have a long story about an epiphany. It did not happen in one moment. I am not so oblivious as you that things strike me out of nowhere. My regard for you changed slowly over time and my admiration for you was built gradually upon a hundred different acts of courage, strength, kindness and intelligence I witnessed you do.”

His answer, although beautiful and sincere, still sounds evasive. Leaning forward, I kiss him deeply, playing tantalizingly with his tongue when he slips it into my mouth. I roll my hips, once, twice, then stop and break away from the kiss, lingering with my mouth an inch from his. I reach my tongue out to flick his bottom lip then pull my head back to look at him teasingly, enjoying the hunger in his eyes. He looks both murderous and incredibly fond in a way that only Hubert could possibly look.

“What else do you want me to say?” he asks. “I told you the truth! Would you like me to lie to you?”

“There is a moment,” I insist. “It is like realizing one’s own sexuality. It is something you know instinctively yet there is always one defining moment that you admit it to yourself in a solid, coherent thought.”

He smirks slightly. “Are you asking me when I… What is that term Dorothea used the other day? Ah. ‘Came out of the closet’ as the kind of absolute idiot that falls in love with his long-standing rival?”

I laugh. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“That’s classified information,” he replies, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I cannot divulge secrets like this without proper-”

Wrapping my fingers around his throat, I squeeze and watch the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before giving him the satisfaction of a good choking, I let go and brush my fingers across his cheek gently.

“When?” I ask. “Indulge me. Please.”

He glares for a moment then says, “Two years ago.”

I stare at him in wide-eyed shock and he smiles, realizing he has the upper-hand now. Grabbing my hips, he wrestles me off of him and down onto my back. Climbing on top of me, he grinds against my thigh and dips his head down to catch my earlobe in his teeth, his fingers resting around my throat now, not squeezing, just stroking – a gentle but unmistakable reminder that he can give as good as he can take.

“I told you that you are hopelessly oblivious,” he whispers in my ear, his low, husky voice making me shiver. “You have been tormenting me for so long. So when I say that it was worth the wait, you should know now exactly how much those words mean given how long I have wanted you.”

“But you- _agh!_ ” I choke out a cry into his mouth as he kisses me passionately and his fingers close tightly around my throat. “You never said a word,” I gasp. “Why didn’t you just-” I am cut off again by a loud, throttled moan as he bites down on my bottom lip.

He chokes me harder until my head swims. _Oh goddess_ those strong, slender fingers, that burning look in his eyes… My heart is pounding and my body feels like it is on fire but I manage to focus enough through the haze of arousal and breathlessness to hear him say mockingly, “Are you satisfied now?”

I try to croak out an answer but cannot speak. Releasing me, Hubert kisses the flushed, swollen marks on my neck as I gasp air back into my lungs.

“I love you, Ferdinand,” he murmurs tenderly against my skin. “I have longer and more deeply than I can ever express. It is not rational and I cannot explain it well, but I mean it with all my heart.”

“You should have told me sooner,” I say hoarsely.

“You would not have believed me. Besides, even though I held these feelings for you, I was convinced that you would never return them. And it would have been impractical to confess them to you, be rejected, and have the ensuing awkwardness jeopardize our ability to work together. There were far, far more important things at stake than my own feelings.”

I cannot deny that he has a point. Would I have accepted his confession at that time? Was I not too wrapped up in my misconceptions and pride? It was hard enough to admit to myself half a year ago that I had any kind of attraction and admiration for him.

“I am sorry I made you wait,” I say.

He rests a finger on my lips and whispers, “Ssh. Stop. I have told you several times now that you are well worth the wait. Let that suffice.”

When my lightheadedness has passed, I wrap my arms around him and say, “You can have what you want now. Anything that you want. I am all yours. I won't keep you waiting any longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm really starting to push the boundaries of the "soft" definition here, considering the amount of choking going on. (I might be alone in personally finding a good loving throttling very wholesome.) So I have renamed the collection. At this point my only criteria for these one shots is that they bring me joy to write.
> 
> As always, hit me up on Twitter @lalexanderwrite to chat and thanks a million for reading!


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